


Tank Takes the Hits

by JuniperCypress



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Childhood Memories, Empathy, Gen, Major Character Injury, One Shot, Xenoblade Chronicles Spoilers, get it -u-
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuniperCypress/pseuds/JuniperCypress
Summary: After the showdown on the Mechonis, Reyn has to help Shulk get out of there. (And has a bit of hyperempathy...)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	Tank Takes the Hits

**Author's Note:**

> [looks up in a daze from 100+ hours in definitive edition] what

The other soldiers in the Defence Force used to joke, while hammering on him in practice rounds, that Reyn just never felt pain. That wasn’t true. He felt every blow.

That was why he tried to _take_ every blow. Better on him than other people. When Dunban had been brought back from Sword Valley, his sword arm dangling useless from the stretcher, it felt like Reyn’s own arm had gone numb. When they failed Fiora, and that faced Mechon’s awful claws had pulled back sheathed in blood, Reyn had felt that pain speared into his own sorry guts.

And when Shulk had stumbled, turning back to them all in shock and betrayal…Reyn thought the shot had gone through his own chest as well.

There would be no fighting back for that, not now—only running. Reyn absolutely hated running. He never wanted to run from danger; he wanted to _end_ the danger, bring his driver down on it again and again until everyone was finally safe. But the Mechonis, this entire metal world, was breaking apart. The walkways under his pounding boots were groaning and hot to the touch. He wasn’t so stupid as to give up the chance to fight another day.

So he ran with the others, tried to focus his attention on the speed of the sprint, and not on Shulk gathered in his arms. He slumped against Reyn’s shoulder, hair fallen into his eyes, and it was hard to tell in the jostle and the noise if he even breathed. Reyn caught a glimpse of turquoise shine from Sharla’s ether patch on the wound, slowing the sticky blood oozing through the shirt…Reyn felt the tightening in his chest again, that damn mirror pain.

“Come on, man…” Reyn heard himself pleading. He grabbed Shulk’s rolling head and squeezed the unresponsive bag of bones, tight as he dared. “You’re doing good, yeah? Almost there, promise…”

He felt too light in his grip. He’d always been too light. Reyn had thought a good breeze might blow the kid away the first time he’d seen him.

“Out, out, out,” old Dickson had said, skidding a boy Reyn’s age outside on his heels and tossing him from the Defence Force laboratory. “You’ll turn pale and dull as a ghost in there, pestering me day in and out. Ah, Reyn, perfect! Show Shulk how to be a real boy for an afternoon or something, eh?”

Then the metal door had clanged unceremoniously shut on them both. The boy did look pale—complexion, hair, eyes and all, but hardly dull. He straightened his disheveled shirt after the undignified exit and shot Reyn a glare, startling him.

“I’m _not_ a ghost,” he said. “And I’m not haunted either.”

Reyn blinked. “Okay?” he said. It was all he could think to say, but it made the other boy pause.

“You’re not gonna run away and laugh?” he said, wary. “Like the other kids?”

Reyn stuck out his chin. He didn’t run; and he didn’t want to admit he didn’t spend much time with the other kids.

“Sounds stupid,” he said, sniffing and rolling his shoulders the way he’d seen his dad do. “I got too much work to do to be messing around.”

“You do?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the smaller kid studying him.

“Yeah. Gotta help the Defence Force break down scrap metal,” he said, with a dismissive shrug. “You can come along today if you want, I guess.”

The other boy’s face broke into a smile. Little did Reyn know that the promise of scrap metal meant he'd never get Shulk off his case again.

He’d been so fragile then, and he was fragile now. He was the brains, he’d never trained for fighting like Reyn had. He’d picked it all up with the Monado quick enough, but…Reyn was supposed to protect him. And now the man who had first introduced Reyn to his best friend was also the one who had shot heat and pain straight through his chest, all with a jaunty smile.

Later—if they’d get a “later”—Reyn would do something about it. He’d find Dickson and shove that treachery in his face, demand the answers that could never justify what he’d done. And he’d find that prick who wore Shulk’s face and had an awful lot to say about thinking himself some kind of a god. But he couldn’t think about that now. Shulk was hurt, they were hurt. He ran.

Somehow they all made it back to Junks. The bulky ship was on the move before the hatch was even closed, dipping and slanting for altitude, and the bridge cramped them all in with their chaos. Shulk was taken from Reyn’s arms at some point and he saw flashes of Linada frowning, Fiora choking on her words. His legs moved to follow them into the med bay but…Fiora. They were friends, but he couldn’t go bumbling in there now trying to help. He’d probably make things worse, with Fiora rounding to scream at him with those tears streaming down her face. More mirror pain, the worse kind.

So he paced out of the way of everyone else by the ship hatch, unsure what to do with the pound of his heart. An unreal amount of ruckus was happening outside as they flew, shockwaves vibrating through the floor of Junks. The Mechonis was coming down. That Machina, Egil, who had been their enemy and then had fought to save them, was he coming down too? Was that good? Reyn’s thoughts reeled from the effort of trying not to think about his best friend. He’d gotten him here but he might have been too late. Zanza had even said some horrible thing about Shulk being a corpse all this time…

“Reyn!” A hand pulled at him to stop his pacing, trying and failing to wrap around his thick arm. Before he could stop himself Reyn spun on that voice to shout at Sharla to get back in the med bay, but she was faster than him.

“He’s stable! Reyn, Linada has him, it’s okay.” Her hands grabbed his face, forced him still with surprising strength. Dark eyes looked into his, shining and worried. “It’s okay, Reyn…”

He wasn’t sure when it exactly happened, but something in him broke and he pulled the medic to him. He pressed his face into the crook of her shoulder and gasped for breath, not bothering to fight the tears. Sharla kept her arms around his bulky shoulders the best she could, murmured comfort and understanding, stroked her fingers through his hair. She was a good medic.

It hardly seemed fair. Sharla had reunited with her true love and then lost him again all in the space of the last few hours, and here she was making sure _he_ wasn’t the basket case. Reyn hated putting that on her, but he couldn’t fight it. He hadn’t cried since he’d lost his parents. He knew Sharla and Linada would do their best, but there was still no guarantee they wouldn’t lose Shulk.

Reyn felt every blow, and he wasn’t stupid. He had to let them fall sometimes, or he’d break.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but it probably wasn’t long. A new sound was happening outside, the shrill hiss of engines approaching. Fast.

“I don’t think we’re done here,” Sharla said in a low voice. Reyn took in a deep breath and pulled away.

“Damn right we’re not,” he said, and Sharla smiled. He squeezed her hand, earnestly. The pain in his chest was finally easing. “Thanks, Sharla. You med types keep doing what you do best. Rest of us will keep things running smooth for you, eh?”

“You’d better, Reyn.” Sharla squeezed his hand back, then spun and jabbed an elbow into his gut on her way back to the med bay. Reyn didn’t stumble, and even allowed himself a grin. It’d take a lot more than that to knock him down.

With another deep breath, Reyn slapped his cheeks a few times and quickly shoved an arm across his eyes. He hefted the weight of the driver on his arm and went to join the others, steeling himself for the next blow.


End file.
